The Truth
by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
Summary: HarrySeverus: all he wants is the real reason's for his heartbreak but some things can come just to late (rated R for a couple uses of language to be safe)


notes: this story was created with the intent to make CS cry, an impossible task perhaps but here is the attempt. Some of the things Harry says in his argument are from Good Charlotte's song 'The Truth', Severus' letter is taken from The Cure song 'Lovesong'. I own neither characters nor songs.

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**The Truth **

I make my delaying way through the chilled maze of stone corridors. I catch glimpses of snow flurries through the high windows, procrastinating by stopping to peer out into the midnight darkness. I fold my arms against the further cold of the dungeons, brows furrowed at the lack of windows to stop and stare out of. Usually Severus' whispered words were enough to make me run through the desolate halls at night in order to find myself quickly wrapped up in black-clad arms. Not tonight. There isn't even a reason for my lack of haste other than the feeling of foreboding in the chambers of my heart. Something isn't right and I disconcertingly do not know why I think this. Perhaps I will push open the door and fall into him. Then at the expressing of my concerns he will smirk and call me an insolent little Gryffindor and remind me that my feelings shouldn't rule me. I will mutter 'git' into his chest then my worries will be kissed, licked and fucked away.

The inevitable can be put off no longer as I stare and the dark wood of the now familiar door. With a turn of the silver handle it swings open and I walk inside, body thankful of the warm heat spreading from the fire. Severus is sitting at his desk hunched over some papers and tutting lightly, obviously first year, most likely Gryffindor given it is the noise of disapproval he uses only for the most 'deserving'. My lips twitch into the slightest of smiles, betraying the ominous feeling that still lingers. There is nothing wrong at all. Nothing. It was truly just me being stupid. Stupid Gryffindor. I slip my robes from my shoulders and sit down on the overstuffed leather couch. I sit impassive, waiting as per our usual custom for Severus to finish whatever activity it is he is preoccupied with. Five, perhaps ten minutes passes and then I hear the unmistakable sound of his sigh of relief as he shuffles the pieces of parchment together and places his quill down on the desk. Severus pushes his chair back and stands up gracefully, turning round in a sweep of black cloth.

Something is very wrong.

Everything Severus thinks and feels is always concealed behind the mask of a bitter, cold, potions master but never around me anymore. It took a lot but one day I was allowed in. Allowed to see the happiness. Allowed to see the hurt. Allowed to see the love. The facade has been replaced. Indifferent black eyes bear down on me and the almost forgotten foreshadowing comes back tenfold, coupling with writhings of fear in my stomach. I have been brought here to be told something. Tell me. Silence hangs in the air like some exorbitant bat as I wait for the blow to strike.  
"Mr Potter, this debauchery will continue no longer." There it is, exactly what I was expecting yet had no idea was coming. For now I will be strong however. I don't, won't and can't believe it.  
"Debauchery ?" Feigned indifference, yes that will be the key. I shall not show that my heart is slowly tearing in two even as my brain rattles in denial. "Yes Potter, debauchery: defined as an indulgence in sensuality ...if you wish I have a dictionary."  
"I know what it is you condescending prick, what I cannot understand is how in twenty-four hours what you classed as love suddenly becomes, and I quote, 'debauchery'." The truth stings my lips and burns my tongue as I utter it. Realisation hits that perhaps this never was love at all.  
"I see no need to explain myself to you now I'm going to ask you to leave and not come back." If the love wasn't real then this anti-fairy tale is. Emotion surges until concealment is no longer an option and I snap  
"You're lying," I shout, eyes growing warmer with increasing tears "I know you're lying." Hypocrite, my mind is yelling now it is me who lies. I have no inclination as to the truth of his statement, I'm just being hopeful. Hopeful and naive. A Gryffindor through and through that is what Severus would call me now.

I stare at him, a tear falling, breathing hitching and _there _, there it was. The mask, for only the briefest of moments, gone. Only someone who knew him, loved him would notice the subtlety of expression but it was there. Pain. Sorrow. Regret. I stand from the couch as Severus sighs. He takes a step forward, unable to stay away from me. A calloused, potion-stained hand reaches out and cups my cheek, emotion flickering somewhere in an impenetrable soul. I watch with bated breath as Severus descends his mouth slowly onto mine. I press up into him, arms snaking around his waist as his tongue glides over my bottom lip. Obediently my mouth opens, welcoming the taste of sweet black coffee. With force he pulls from me, away from both lips and arms.  
"I can assure you Mr Potter that I am telling the truth. It was naive of you to think that I could love you. Such a Gryffindor and now you stand there crying like it is so unbelievable." His back is turned as he says this, a sure sign that he is having a problem hiding how he really feels. I know he his lying. I know he loves me. He loves me.  
"I want to know the truth," I can hear the pleading tone rising in my voice yet I care nothing for my dignity now "if this _is _how you feel then say it to me, that this was ever real." Severus turns, mask back in place. I can see it slip as his eyes lock onto my tears. His hand twitches at his side in longing to hold me and kiss the tears from my face "I want the truth from you."  
"I am telling you the truth Potter." The most minute of emotions flashes on his face, liar I internally scream. "Give me the truth ...even if it hurts me." I add as an after thought. I can see his mind mulling over the possibility. Mask: slipping ...slipping.  
"This is the truth..." Lies  
"No ! Give me the truth Severus. I know that this will hurt me and break my heart and soul inside either way," I take a deep breath and step towards him, holding back an impending sob "so just give me the fucking truth." I scream at him. That hurt him, he'd deny it but my shouting has burned him. "See you can't even look at me straight in the eyes and say that you don't love me. Do it ! Go ahead ! If you really are as cold and unfeeling as you are pretending to be then it should be a breeze for you." Severus wavers then steps towards me again, nose to hooked nose we stand and then

"I. Do. Not. Love. You." Said slowly as if he were talking to an imbecile ..but he was. I foolishly believed there was some reason behind this frigid outburst but really ...truly ...he doesn't love me.  
Before my knees give way and I drop in a sobbing heap to the dungeon floor I turn and flee, Severus' last words echoing round my head

_I. Do. Not. Love. You. _

My pace increases as I try to run from the statements that are haunting me.

_I. Do. Not. Love. You. _

The chill of the corridors bites the skin of my bare arms, robes left in Severus' room but I was asked to leave and never come back and so I will not return for them. I wrap my arms around my own body, dropping them instantly as if scorched when I wish to myself they were Severus'. I stop dead in my tracks. His arms never will be round me again. I will never experience the sensation of his lips on mine, tongue exploring my mouth. There will be no body pressed on top of mine or a sex-laced voice whispering sweet words as I am penetrated, broken and remade.

_You're beautiful. I love you. So hot and tight. I love you. _

I shake my head, shouldn't dwell in the past. It's over now. I shouldn't have been so naive, shouldn't have let myself fall so hard and so fast. My tears have ceased by the time I reach the entrance hall, now walking in a melancholic daze. Unsure of where to go, what to do and what to feel, I walk in the manner of a man possessed towards the huge, opened doors leading out into the ending snowfall and white expanse of cold emptiness.

The wind has lessened but it still blows mercilessly against my skin. I'm fully aware the dangers of wandering in the snow wearing only a t-shirt and a worn, old pair of jeans but I feel no concern for my well-being ...in fact I feel nothing at all. No cold. No pain. Just nothing. Somewhere beneath my rib cage and lungs there used to be an organ that would pump blood and give life while at the same time experiencing and comprehending various degrees of love but now there seems to be nothing.

Am I even breathing ? The mist hanging in the air before me tells me yes. Am I even alive ? The noise of my teeth chattering and the rising of the hair off my neck with the bitter temperatures tell me it is so.

I plant myself on a bench, uncaring of the moisture of the snow seeping through my jeans and I stare. Blankly ahead, not really seeing anything at all however still noticing that the snow no longer falls and the clouds are breaking up.

Time passes, heavens only know how long but  
somewhere down at the edge of the forest a bird is singing. It can't be morning. The sky that shows through broken cloud is still pitch black. How can it be morning when there's nothing to keep breathing for. Of course ...the world will still keep turning.

I peel myself from the bench, trudging through the snow back into the entrance hall. My feet carry me, I stare blankly ahead not even needing to think about direction. Eventually my body brings me to an abrupt stop and I am forced to rack my brains for the password. Somehow I stumble my way into the Gryffindor boy's bathroom.

My soaked jeans drop easily to the floor and my t-shirt peels off my frozen skin, glasses placed precariously on the edge of the sink. I turn on the water, steam quickly enveloping the room, soothing my glacial body. Tentatively I step beneath the hot water spray, head hanging as my hair is matted to my head. Glistening streams slide down my shoulder and spine, curving round hips and thighs. And so I stand, engulfed in heat. My knees feel weak beneath me and I allow my body to slip down the wall. I pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around them as I lay my head on my knees. I can feel a heaviness building in my eyelids from lack of sleep, body feeling ready to shut down from emotional exhaustion.

Somewhere in between emptiness and despair the rest of the castle awakens, faint voices drifting through the minuscule gap between the door and the tiled floor. I push myself up, turning off the shower. I run a soft towel over my body, wrapping it around my waist. I place my glasses on my face before towelling the worst of the moisture from my hair.

A razor sits invitingly on a shelf. It could be that simple. Just like levitation, only instead of swish and flick, slash and bleed. I can't though can I ? Physically and emotionally of course I can, what is there to hang around for ? Sadly I have a responsibility.

I open the bathroom door, towel clutched at my waist and I turn to face the razor again. If only I didn't have a world to save.

My hair begins to dry naturally as I enter the  
dormitory and rummage around for some clothes. A green jumper and yet more jeans, nice and muggle for a mercifully classless Sunday. This will be the start of something new, something empty. Will I always look back on this day and its previous night with such sorrow ? Will it fade into a forgotten memory ? Only time shall tell. I shove my trainers back on, eyes lowered to the floor as I leave the common room in an attempted to avoid any and all social interactions.

Most of the pupils seem to be awake, chatting happily over breakfast as for the staff ...I do not trust myself to look up towards that table. If Hermione and Ron have seen me I don't give them a chance to acknowledge my presence and sit alone at the top of the table, praying and wishing they will just leave me be. I stare at the wood of the table, eyes making patterns in the grain. My hands hang limply on the bench beside me, not bothering to even pretend I'm eating anything. Wings rustle above me as the post comes in. A school barn owl lands in front of my, hooting to get my attention. Slowly I look up, taking the letter that it holds.

I'd recognise that hand-writing anywhere, slanted, sweeping letters always curling slightly at the ends. My face etches into the first sign of expression in hours: confusion. I hazard a glance at the head table, the faces of the professors solemn. Severus isn't among them.

Something is very wrong.

Before I can open his letter Dumbledore steps to his feet, face more grim than I have ever seen it. The occupants of the hall hush swiftly, sensing the foreboding nature of the headmasters behaviour. He clears his throat and speaks in a saddened tone, avoiding direct contact with any pupils  
"I have tragic news to tell this morning, but first some explanation will be required. Professor Snape, as many of you I'm sure have speculated over the years, had been marked as a Death Eater," whispers and murmurs filled the hall but quiet quickly "he has, however, been working as a spy for many long years now. The reason for telling you this is ...without consulting another person the Professor discovered that he had been found out, his next summoning likely to be his last, yet left for it regardless." The murmurs grow louder as speculations circulate, I cannot hear anything for the pounding of my heart in my ears. I know what is next but tell me I am wrong. Tell me no, tell me...  
"Earlier this morning Professor Snape was found, dumped in the snow by the gates ...he was still alive," gods be thanked, praised, worshipped but why the sorrow at our relieved faces Headmaster ?  
"He had been grievously injured ...in spite of our best efforts..." No no, tell me no, tell me... "At around seven thirty this morning Professor Severus Snape passed away."

_...passed away _

It echoes round in my head, what a gentle way to tell us that he is gone. Never coming back. Gone. Conversation builds in the hall but by me it goes unnoticed. I tear open Severus' letter, looking for answers and explanations.

_Harry,  
However far away, I will always love you.  
However long I stay, I will always love you.  
Whatever words I say, I will always love you. _

I will always love you.  
Severus

There it is, my explanation. He loved me. I wasn't naive, wasn't stupid. Now he's gone. I have my truth but he is gone. I methodically get up from my position on the bench, showing no sign of what goes through my mind. For the second time today I go out into the bitter cold. This time I have a purpose. My feet crunch in the snow, letter gripped in my hand.

I reach the gates. They found you here. I look to the snow covered ground. It sparkles in the sun, dazzling my eyes but even through my squinting and from behind dark lashes I see the unmistakable shape of where you lay. I drop to my knees, a shaking hand running lightly over the imprint. Patches of snow are stained red. You died in pain, frozen and alone, thinking that I hated you ...because you'd tried to make me hate you. I didn't and I don't. I miss you and want you back, it is a wonder how I will walk though each and everyday without you to hold me at the end. A sob resounds in my chest, tears falling to the ground, dissolving the snow of where you lay like an angel cast harshly from some merciless heaven.

If only I didn't have a world to save.


End file.
